The Popcorn Conspiracy
by michelle-31a
Summary: Harry enlists Luna's help to surprise Ginny for their first anniversary, with decidedly mixed results


It started just as Faramir was leading his doomed charge against the orc-infested ruins of Osgilliath. Ginny's hatred of the deranged steward Denethor multiplied tenfold as the row of horses thundered majestically across Pellinor fields; so captivated was she by the spectacular and heartbreaking sequence that she'd barely noticed Luna's increasing restlessness.

Luna had been uncharacteristically fidgeting in her seat for several minutes, swinging her feet back and forth and knocking her carpet slippers against the seatbacks before her, though thankfully the patrons seated there seemed to pay no mind. Ginny tried her best to ignore her friend's movements, watching with baited breath as the orcs rose up from the rubble and gazed out at the approaching horsemen.

"I'm bored," stated Luna suddenly, making no effort to lower her voice.

"Shh!"

Faramir's troop broke out into a full gallop. Ginny's grip on her chair's arms tightened.

"No really," repeated Luna in a disturbingly unhushed voice, drawing several few irritated glances from the patrons all round. "I'm quite bored. Aren't you? Why don't we do something else?"

"Hush!" snapped Ginny. Why was Luna being so disruptive? It had been her suggestion to see this film, after all.

Indeed, Luna had showed up unannounced at Ginny's earlier that day, seemingly bent on spending the entire afternoon frequenting various Muggle establishments with her friend. Although a bit unusual behaviour for Luna, Ginny had eagerly accepted. Harry had gone fishing for the day with Ron in any event, and the prospect of spending a dreary day alone at home was altogether unappealing.

Besides, she hadn't seen Luna in over a week; she'd found herself missing her old schoolmate. Though as odd as ever, the young woman's presence always seemed to have a calming effect on Ginny.

But this was something entirely different, thought the redhead as she gleaned Luna staring at her expectantly out of the corner of her eye.

_Don't react. Don't say anything. Concentrate on the movie_.

But her enjoyment of the film was being tempered by her friend's distinctly odd behaviour. Ginny spied a popcorn kernel land atop the head of the woman in front of her. Ginny drew a sharp breath as the middle-aged lady shook her head vigorously in reaction, running her hand over her hair in search of the offending object. Having found nothing amiss, she settled down and went back to watching the movie, to Ginny's intense relief.

She scowled at the discheveled blonde in the seat next to her.

"What was that for?" she whispered in irritation.

"I'm bored," repeated Luna, much too loudly. Ginny could hear people shifting in their seats; she knew she must be flushing a bright reddish hue by now.

"And I'm trying to watch the movie," said Ginny in a low but firm voice. "So stop it."

But the rebuke had little effect on the Ravenclaw. Ginny could sense feel Luna's gaze on her for the next several minutes.

Then, it happened.

"Foomp," said Luna musically just as she threw a large handful of popcorn on the patrons in front of her.

"_Hey!_"

"Luna!"

"Blimey! What's the problem?" the man with the handlebar moustache in the row ahead of them asked, sweeping bits of popcorn from his sleeves and vest.

"Well, I'm bored, you see," explained Luna serenely.

The man's wife turned and glared at them. There was a large popcorn kernel caught in her hair that she hadn't yet noticed.

"I'm so sorry!" exclaimed Ginny earnestly. "She's not at all like this normally – "

"She's right, you know," affirmed Luna.

"It won't happen again," said Ginny, turning to her friend and giving her a forceful look. "_Will_ it?"

The Ravenclaw stared at her blanky. Luna's silence rang loud alarm bells in Ginny's head.

"Your friend's a bit daft, I think," commented the woman severely.

"No really, I – "

"Shhhhh!"

Ginny winced from the rebuke, it having come from several sources simultaneously. The woman in the seat in front shook her head in apparent disgust, but finally turned her attention back to the movie. Ginny sank down low in her seat in embarassment, her knees brushing the seatback.

"Can we leave now?" asked Luna.

Ginny gritted her teeth.

"No," she whispered angrily, determined to watch the rest of the epic unfolding on the screen.

Luna looked down to her popcorn container on her lap.

Making an immediate decision to head off any further popcorn-related incidents, Ginny made a grab for the large carton. But Luna was too quick, snatching the container away at the last moment and keeping it out of reach.

"Don't you dare!" hissed Ginny.

"Are we leaving?"

"No," replied Ginny firmly, "we're going to stay and watch the movie. End of discuss – "

"Foomp," repeated Luna happilly, tossing her entire popcorn bucket's contents onto the couple in front of them, covering them in a mess of kernels like so many giant snowflakes. Ginny gasped.

"ARRGGHH!"

"BLOODY HELL! USHER!"

"SSHHHHH!"

Ginny didn't wait around to be thrown out. Grabbing her coat, she scrambled out the theatre exit, Luna right at her heels. Emerging into the crisp and bright sunlight of late afternoon, the redhead whirled around to face her companion.

"All right, Luna," she began irritably, "you've got some explaining to do. What was all that about?"

"I thought I'd already done that?" explained Luna with frustrating calmness. "I was bored."

"Bored!" exclaimed Ginny, waving her hand at the theatre. "How could you possibly be bored with _that _movie, of all things?"

"Well, I'd seen it before," clarified Luna as she re-donned her battered old coat. Ginny still held hers bundled in one hand, still too flustered to take much notice of the cool March air.

But this last statement boggled her mind. "You've..."

"Seen it," affirmed Luna airily. "Last week-end. Hermione invited me. It was quite good, actually."

Ginny stood dumbfounded.

"You've already seen it?"

Luna tilted her head slightly. "You're not absorbing very well today," she stated matter-  
of-factly.

"Hello!" snapped Ginny in exasperation. "You're the one who wanted to come here! What gives?"

"Hmm?"

Ginny let go a growl of frustration. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked. "We could've watched something else...not that it matters now, they're probably going to post our pictures at the ticket booth. As if we'll ever get in _there_ again!"

"Why don't we do something else then?" suggested Luna.

"What, just like that?" asked Ginny in stupefaction, flustered at her misty-eyed friend's lack of concern over their rather embarrassing exit.

"There's no better way," intoned Luna musically as she spun around with arms outstretched, drawing a curious look from a warmly-clad little old lady walking past, her corgi smelling the sidewalk excitedly and pulling tightly on its leash. Though Hogwarts was now three years behind them, Luna had always retained a distinctly childlike quality – it was a trait Ginny hoped she would never lose, embarrassing moments notwithstanding.

Ginny's shoulders sagged slightly as her anger slowly evaporated. In fact, the image of the irate popcorn-covered lady flashed through her mind and provoked a giggle.

"Oh, what's the use," she finally yielded, donning her jacket. "I can't stay mad at you, Luna. What's done is done, I guess. I'm getting a bit hungry anyway...want to grab a bite at that bistro we saw earlier?"

Luna looked thoughtful.

"Do you think they have any popcorn?"

Ginny froze. "Why?" she asked suspiciously. "Are you going to throw food over there, too?"

"Only if there are people there," answered Luna. "Otherwise not."

"What _is_ it with you today?" exclaimed Ginny. "You're worse than Fred and George all of a sudden!"

"Yes, I am being rather anti-social," affirmed Luna serenely.

"Okay, I give," said Ginny, rubbing her temples. "Look, I'm getting a bit of a headache. Let's go home, I'll fix us a little something; I think I still have some asparagus I can steam up..."

"I like asparagus," stated Luna.

Ginny looked around. The woman with the corgi was out of sight. They were alone in the alley.

"Right then," she said. "Meet you in the shop."

There was a loud crack as Ginny experienced the familiar moment of disorientation, though it lasted but a moment. She apparated in Harry's small workshop in the back of the yard, the single small window providing scant illumination. She didn't particularly like apparating here, but after the near disaster of the previous month she and Harry had decided it would be safest, in the unlikely event there might be Muggles visiting. She was alone.

Ginny waited about a minute. Luna still hadn't apparated.

She frowned. Might Luna still be in the alley?

She briefly considered going back but quickly dismissed the idea. Apparating _into_ a Muggle environment was fraught with hazards; if someone happened to be passing by at that moment...

She waited a few minutes longer. Gazing around the cluttered workshop, she spied Harry's fishing rod up on the wall. He'd forgotten it!

Concluding that Luna had either misapparated (she sincerely hoped not) or had simply changed her mind, Ginny decided to floo her friend at home in the off chance she'd gone there directly from the theatre. She left the workshop and walked down the beaten down path to her back porch, her boots crunching the dry snow underneath.

Her nose detected a faint wisp of smoke in the air. She glanced about. There was no sign of anything burning in the environs; more likely the McClintock kids were out burning their godmother's linens again. She thanked the stars they were terrified of Fang...

Ginny unlocked the door and turned the handle. She was immediately greeted by a strong whiff of smoky air – her house was on fire!

She dropped her bag and ran through the family room, heedless of the puddles of wet snow her boots were leaving along the floor. The smoke was coming from the kitchen! But what –

Ginny squeaked as she nearly collided with a shadowy figure running across her path. It was Harry. He had somehow failed to register her presence, and seemed to be in the midst of a panic as he bolted into the kitchen.

She ran after him, entering a kitchen half full of smoke whose appearance reminded her of an earthquake aftermath.

"Harry!"

He spun around, a shocked expression on his face and beads of sweat on his brow.

"Wha – Gin? What're you doing here?"

"I live here, remember?" replied Ginny as she took in the full scope of the disaster which had befell her kitchen. Pots and pans were strewn everywhere, a large splattering of sauce lay uncleaned on the floor, a myriad spicy scents dulled by the smoke rising up lazily from an open casserolle in the oven.

"But...but – you're early!" sputtered Harry.

He looked up at the clock overlooking the cupboard. His eyes widened.

"Oh, no," he said in dawning realization, clasping his forehead in horror. "You're right on time...oh...crap..."

Ginny frowned as she stepped into the simulated warzone. "On time? On time for what?"

"I...oh, blast it," said Harry, looking thoroughly discouraged. "Well, all right. Not like I can hide it now. C'mere."

He took Ginny's hand and led her to the dining room. To her surprise, the table was beautifully set for two, with white linen, silverware and everything else perfectly arranged. The centrepiece was a large bouquet of roses, flanked on each side by a pair of vermillion candles. Ginny's jaw dropped at the sight. She approached the table.

"Harry...this is beautiful..."

"Yeah, well..."

Harry waved hopelessly towards the kitchen. "Flowers might be the only thing we get to eat tonight, the way this is turning out."

Ginny turned, a sudden realization hitting her. "Harry," she said slowly, her gaze drifting over the wine basket and goblets, "what's all this for?"

"Well, it _was_ for our first anniversary," he answered dispiritedly, "but now...I think I bit off more than I can chew."

"Gee, you think?" remarked Ginny as she stared across the hall to the smoldering battlefield which had once been a kitchen.

"But I really thought I could pull it off!" said Harry. "I had the recipes, the ingredients, everything I needed. Well, almost everything."

Ginny looked at him inquiringly.

"Could've used a chef," he finished darkly. "I've never tackled anything this complicated before."

Ginny giggled. "Harry," she said carefully, "I don't know how to break this to you, but...our anniversary's tomorrow."

Harry was stone-faced.

"What?" he asked tautly.

"Tomorrow," answered Ginny.

"You're joking," countered Harry, more in desperation than disbelief.

"Nope, sorry, not joking," said Ginny, trying to keep a straight face. "There were twenty-  
nine days in February this year, remember? We're the third today; _tomorrow's_ the fourth."

The slow dawn of comprehension spread across Harry's face. He sagged back against the wall and closed his eyes.

"I can't believe this," he croaked despairingly. "Now I know how Murphy felt."

Ginny smiled and made her way over to him. "Well, hey, don't be so hard on yourself," she said soothingly as she ran her hand through Harry's even-more-discheveld-than-  
usual hair. "They say it's the thought that counts, right? I think it's really sweet that you went to all this trouble. And anyway, don't think of it as a waste...think of it as a dry run!"

Harry's eyes popped open. "Are you kidding?" he said incredously. "There's no more surprise, the kitchen is a shambles, and we're out of ingredients. I was really hoping to make this special, too..."

"We still can," said Ginny affectionately. "I was thinking we could both do it. It's your anniversary too, you know."

Harry looked at her, hardly daring to hope. "Really?"

"Sure we can," replied Ginny, nudging him affectionately in the ribs. "We can get some groceries first thing tomorrow and get started bright and early, it'll be fun. And besides," she said, nudging Harry teasingly, "I still want a kitchen at the end of the day."

Harry looked in the direction of the jumbled and cluttered countertops across the hall and smiled to himself. "Well," he said sheepishly, "I can't blame you there. Luna said a House-Elf couldn't get it all this done in one afternoon...guess she was right after all."

Ginny's eyes widened.

"_You_ were behind all that!" she exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at Harry. "Why you little sneak!"

"Eh? What're you talking about?"

"I've probably gotten a lifetime ban from the cineplex thanks to you and your little co-  
conspirator," complained Ginny, though the glint in her eye and the tone of her voice were mirthful.

Harry held up his hands in defense. "Hey, don't look at me," he laughed. "I only told her to get you back for five, that's all. I just told her to use her imagination – "

Ginny crossed her arms and looked at Harry severely.

A look of realization crossed his face. "Oops," he said in a muted tone. "Okay, maybe that wasn't the best choice of words..."

"That's putting it mildly," echoed Ginny. "The one good Muggle film playing, too."

"Double oops," said Harry apologetically.

"You owe me a movie," said Ginny.

Harry smiled. "Deal."

"All right," said Ginny, "you're forgiven then."

She moved over to the calendar on the wall and flipped it back to October. She took the quill from the inkwell on the small table and began to write.

"What's happening in October?" asked Harry curiously, coming over and peering over Ginny's shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

Ginny grinned mischievously. "Luna's birthday," she replied, writing '_Revenge_' in large block letters on the last Sunday of the month.

Harry chuckled. "What're you going to do?"

"I don't know yet," shrugged Ginny, putting back the quill and turning around to face Harry. "But we've got seven months to think of something."

As they kissed, the thought of flying popcorn and burnt-out kitchens evaporated from Ginny's mind, to be replaced by far more happy thoughts...


End file.
